Tsukimi
by Lys ap Adin
Summary: Hibari likes that Yamamoto appreciates the proper things in life. Yamamoto x Hibari.


**Title:** Tsukimi**  
Characters:** Yamamoto/Hibari**  
Summary:** Hibari appreciates that Yamamoto understands what is good in life.**  
Notes:** Smut and moonviewing. For khrfest, to the prompt 8018 - Astrological Signs - "Tauruses are notorious sensualists." 901 words.

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**Tsukimi**

The moon was just beginning to rise, full and golden, when Kyouya heard the sound of the door sliding open behind him, and the pad of feet crossing the engawa behind him. "You're late," he noted, as Takeshi settled beside him.

"Things took longer than I expected," Takeshi said. "It got messy toward the end." He shrugged. "Had to grab a shower before I could change."

Indeed, his hair was still damp when Kyouya looked, and the cotton of his yukata was darker around the collar from it. For a moment, he regretted Takeshi's compunctions--it would have been good to see him just after, when he was still in the grip of the sword, and to taste the wildness of his edge, the salt and iron tang on his skin, before he rinsed those things away and sheathed the sword. But that wouldn't have been appropriate to this, and one of the things Takeshi had a firm sense of was the appropriate.

"I told him they wouldn't deal," Kyouya said, and poured the sake for them both.

Takeshi accepted it from him, long fingers balancing the little bowl deftly. "It's Tsuna," he said, smile catching the moonlight. "He had to try."

"He's the Vongola Tenth," Kyouya said, as Takeshi stretched himself out, arranging himself on the smooth boards of the engawa and making himself comfortable, just like a dog. "He doesn't _have_ to do anything."

"Mm." The moonlight cast Takeshi's face into sharp relief, making the shadows around his eyes deepen and the slow spread of his frown clear. "Think it's the other way around. He's the Vongola Tenth, so there are a lot of things he has to do."

"You're talking like a sheep," Kyouya told him, and resorted to his sake as Takeshi simply laughed and _baa_ed at him. The sake was good, clear and smooth on his tongue and warm in his throat and stomach.

Takeshi seemed to think so, too; he made an appreciative noise over his, and then settled into silence as the moon continued to rise, heavy and full through the tree branches.

Kyouya liked it that Takeshi had a sense of the appropriate, and that he understood when it was good to savor a moment like this one--the coolness of the air and the warmth of the brazier glowing at their backs, good sake and moonlight caught by the branches of the trees. It was good that there was someone else among Tsuna's Guardians who understood the proper things in life.

Takeshi refilled their cups once, and Kyouya a third time, as the moon made its slow ascent. By the time it had cleared the trees, the alcohol was a warm glow suffusing Kyouya's body, making him loose and contented, and he was pleased when Takeshi set his cup down and turned to him to set his fingers against Kyouya's wrist, delicately. "Mm," he said, to the question in the lifting of Takeshi's eyebrows.

Takeshi hadn't put away all his edges after all; when he moved to come to Kyouya, it was with the controlled smoothness of a predator on the prowl, and his mouth against Kyouya's was hot and sure, tasting of sake and the hunt. Kyouya hummed his approval, pleased by the strength of him, and was willing enough to assent to the way Takeshi pressed against him, hands loosening their clothes and sliding under the layers of cloth to stroke against Kyouya's bare skin. The warmth of the brazier and Takeshi's body over his made a pleasant contrast to the coolness of the boards under him and the briskness of the air on his bare skin. The moonlight painted it all in stark shades of silver and grey and black as Takeshi's mouth moved over his throat, hot and sharp by turns, and his skin was smooth under Kyouya's fingers, pleasingly solid with muscle beneath.

It was good to feel Takeshi over him, and even better to draw him closer and wrap around him, and to feel the drape of soft cotton fluttering against his bare skin with their every movement as long fingers stroked into him, slow but ruthlessly sure of themselves. Kyouya caught at Takeshi's shoulders as heat wove its way up his spine, arching with the press of them, and then hooked a leg around Takeshi's hips to let Takeshi slide into him, deliberate and slow. Takeshi groaned against his throat, and fine tremors moved through the shoulders beneath Kyouya's palms as Takeshi moved against him. He groaned, too, as heat and pleasure unspooled themselves through him as Takeshi's hips rolled against his, steadily, until everything--the texture of Takeshi's skin and the scent of his hair, the feel of the boards under his shoulders and the cool night air, and even the sight of the moon over Takeshi's shoulder--dissolved into brightness.

Takeshi settled over him, after, as they caught their breath. He was sleek against Kyouya, and turned his face against Kyouya's throat. His breath was warm, and his lips tickled, just a bit, when they moved against Kyouya's skin, shaping words that were soundless. Kyouya didn't reply to them, but after a moment he raised a hand and set it in Takeshi's hair, crisp and silky between his fingers, and felt the way Takeshi's lips curled against his throat.

They stayed like that for a long time, as the moon sailed on overhead.

**end**

Comments are lovely!


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